


Одинокий

by iiStarnet



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: BIG OOF, Blood and Gore, Burning Plane, Cuddling, Falling In Love, Feelings, Flashbacks, Helicopters, M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Rescue, Sharing a Bed, Suicide mention, Tord's plane crashed, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiStarnet/pseuds/iiStarnet
Summary: How Tord met Vlahd





	1. I

A cold breeze wafted throughout the desolate land as the moon began to slowly settle up in the night sky. The Thousands of stars littering the abyss high above the ground made for a calming scene. However, just moments before, there was a thunderous crash as an airplane collided with the cold land. The resulting fireball and blast of heat silenced the crickets in the surrounding area. The temperature difference made for a stunning display of steam, smoke, and fire. The local wildlife peered at the display, wondering in their minds “What the hell was that?”

It wasn’t long before a figure drifted down from the heavens, a large parachute connected to his back. The man was incredulous, his single eye watching his ride home burning up. He suddenly jerked as he flew into a small tree, and then got dragged once again by his parachute. The man breathed a sigh of relief, thankful he didn’t get stuck. A twig lodged itself into his hair, but that was the least of his worries right now. His pilot snuck in alcohol into the cockpit and got himself plastered, thus leaving the airplane mechanics to fend for itself. Due to the nature of the man’s mission, he could not find the time to gather a co-pilot.

And here he thought that Paul and Patryk were disappointments.

The Man, Tord Larkson, Red Leader, whatever he chose to call himself, was now utterly fucked.

His trip here was meant to be a diplomatic mission. A treaty to be signed with the current Russian president, giving up property to make way for the development for a military base. Tord never liked air-travel due to his ears constant habit of struggling to adjust to air pressure. The ascend/descent wasn’t even that harmful for his hearing but Tord in all his wisdom and glory decided that if his ears were hurting, jam his fingers into them and hope it stops.

Today, he was lucky enough to have swallowed a painkiller beforehand, leaving one problem out of this predicament. As his legs eventually made contact with the cold, Russian dirt, he took this time to survey his surroundings.

There were trees, some bushes, mostly hilly, grass-covered land. In the distance, Red Leader could make out a building. It appeared to be a farm, with a hammer and sickle on top. _Classy_, Tord thought to himself.

As he wiggled his prosthetic fingers in his arm, he decided the first thing to do was to get help. A light Click sounded from somewhere in his robot arm as Tord made the hand gesture for “Phone.” The metallic tips of his fingers shifted a bit and opened up to reveal a speaker in his thumb and a microphone in his pinkie. Finally, he spoke.

“Call Paul.”

The arm whirred a slight bit, before a dial-tone could be heard. 4 rings passed by before a voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Paul.” Tord spoke once more.

“H-Hey sir! Is everything ok?” Paul nervously questioned.

“Well, my pilot got black-out drunk, crashed the plane, and now I’m in foreign territory. So no, it isn’t ok.” Tord relayed the situation back to his right-hand man.

“Oh. Oh _Shit_. Hold on, I’m going to get your co-ordinates.” Paul’s voice had an undertone of fear and keyboard clacking could be heard in the background. “Wait,” said Tord.

“Y-Yes sir?” Tord looked over at the burning rubble of his plane.

“The remains of the plane are still here. There’s a building up ahead, it looks like a farm house? I’m going to go over there.” Tord muttered into the speaker. The nervous voice from the other end interjected once more.

“Uh… I’m not sure that a good idea? There might be someone dangerous in there.”

Tord rolled his eye and spoke into his pinkie. “Paul, it’s literally so run-down I can see holes in the roof. If there even IS someone living in there, My arm can vaporize them in seconds. I’ll be fine.” Tord’s confidence beamed even through the speaker. “You have my co-ordinates, right?” Tord questioned.

“Oh! Yeah, I got them.” Paul answered again.

“Great, get over here as fast as possible.” With that, Tord shut off his “phone” and began making his way over to the run-down building. His arm producing a soft, golden light as he waltzed through the grass. The surrounding crickets began their orchestra of chirping once more, and as Tord got closer to the farm, he noticed the land near it was different.

Rows of small leaves littered the ground. Tord looked down at one of the bushels and used the palm of his robotic hand to illuminate it. A dark green leaf with red veins was connected to a red stem that was buried into the ground. Tord recognized the crop as a beetroot. He looked around, seeing the same vegetables all around. He was at a beet farm.

Tord continued his journey towards the dilapidated structure and raised his hand to illuminate the wood. Cracks ran down every plank, and on one side of the farmhouse, there was a wall of vines and leaves. It smelled of mold and a distinct metallic scent that sent a shiver down Tord’s Spine. His guard was raised as he patrolled around the house, scanning the area. He seemed to be alone. Tord decided to try his luck.

“Hello?” He questioned. He heard no response.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” The question rang throughout the dilapidated structure, but no one answered.

Tord shook his head as a realization hit him. _This is the Russian countryside. These people don’t speak English!_ It wasn’t that Tord could not speak Russian, he could. He wasn’t fluent in the language but knew enough to hold a conversation.

Nevertheless, he continued surveying the area.

_Crunch._

Tord jolted upright, he was on high alert as he turned around to look for anyone nearby. His mouth and throat were dry and his heartbeat was louder than the crickets around him. The previous confidence he held before was gone, as fight-or-flight mode was about to kick in.

Tord heard a footstep.

He felt it then, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. The soft golden light in his hand was now a harsh, bright yellow. Electricity flowed through his prosthetic in case he was about to take a bitch down. He continued to look around, not being able to see anything out of the ordinary.

_Snap_

Tord decided it was then best to start backing up. He tried his luck for his stalker being able to understand English.

“Stay Back! I have a weapon!” Tord exclaimed, trying to make himself look bigger in hopes that his 5’10 stature alone was enough to scare a countryman away.

As he continued to back up, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

He felt it, the presence of a man behind him.

Red leader let out an unmanly scream of terror as he spun around to face his stalker. His arm outstretched and pointing at the figure now in front of him, ready to fire thousands of volts of electricity.

The stranger let out an equally scared scream and fell on his back. Right away Tord could see this person was tall. Like, Really tall. The second thing Tord noticed is that the stranger was holding a rusty, old shovel.

Tord lowered his hand to illuminate the mystery man that was following him. His panic simmered down a tad bit, before being replaced by confusion.

The man… looked funny.

That was the only way Tord could Describe him.

The man must have been over 6 ft tall, wearing old tattered clothes adorned with patches and sloppy stitchwork. Specifically, he was wearing a dark blue sweater with a slightly lighter pair of overalls on top with Two brown buttons connecting the straps. An old and tattered beige sunhat was still on top of the man’s head. His hair was shoulder-length black, and poorly maintained. Even in the dark Tord could see how mangy the man’s locks appeared.

Yet none of that was worth mentioning compared to his face.

His face was slightly too long to be anything normal, with his eyes surrounded by dark and heavy circles. And holy hell, those fucking cheekbones were jutting out. The man’s face looked like he had been starved for weeks. It made him look old and worn. Tord estimated his age to be in his late 30’s/early 40’s. His eyes met with the strangers, and they were full of fear. Not the sort of fear that entails hiding in a corner, but the sort of fear that gets the adrenaline pumping and preparing to rip someones throat out.

After a few moments of gawking at the man’s gastly appearance, Tord decided the best course of action was to de-escalate the situation. He put his hands up in an effort to calm the man and spoke in a quiet tone.

“Easy there, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Although the light wasn’t focused on the man anymore, Tord could still see the confusion on his face. He sighed an asked.

“English?”

No response.

“Русский?”

The man’s head lifted up, showing that he understood. Well, he wasn’t the best, but here goes.

**_[Hello?] _**Spoke Tord.

The man held his gaze a moment longer before answering.

**_[Hello.]_ **Replied the man. His voice was low and deep.

Tord let out another sigh.

**_[Do you live here?]_** Tord asked as he motioned towards the barn.

**_[Who’s asking?]_** The man’s voice had a defensive undertone.

Tord chuckled and replied. _[**Don’t worry, I’m not a cop. I’m stranded here and I was hoping if I could stay here for a few hours? ]**_

The Man blinked, and he raised his eyebrow at Tord. **_[Here? You want to stay here? I see you don’t have an eye, maybe that’s what keeping you from seeing what a shithole you’re at.]_**

Tord chuckled again. **_[My eyesight is fine, thank you very much. But I get it, I guess I’ll have to travel on foot and look for somewhere else to rest tonight…]_ **Tord watched as the man’s face flushed a bit. First in embarrassment, then in anger.

**_[Yeah. You will.]_ **The man’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as he stood up. Okay yep, this guy was a giant and Tord was regretting trying to pull a guilt-trip.

** _[Ok Ok, I’m sorry, but please, I really need a place to stay. It doesn’t have to be a room or anything I could just sleep on the floor.]_ **

The man looked down at him, watching him, studying his face. Tord recognized the stare, it was one of judgement. Sizing up the individual to see if they pose a threat to you. Tord’s mouth curved into a sheepish smile as he started to feel very threatened by this man. His intense glare could both freeze and melt anything it landed on.

The man’s gaze softened as he finally relented. **_[There’s an old bedroom upstairs that you can use.]_**

Tord let out a sigh of relief. **_[Thank you… oh, I’m Sorry, I didn’t get your name?]_**

The Man studied Tord for a second longer and answered.

“Vlahd.”

“Vlahd.” Tord repeated. He smiled and asked where the door to the barn was.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just hanging around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up! The text in brackets [text] is just them speaking in Russian, so sorry if there was any confusion

Once Tord was inside, he could understand where the “Shithole” comment came from. Everything was a mess, the floorboards were ripped up, stains covered the left wall. Tord surveyed the rest of the barn when he heard the pitter patter of rain falling on the roof.

**[Well, Shit]** came the voice from behind him.

Tord looked at Vlahd to see him grimacing at the ceiling. He hoped this bedroom wasn’t prone to leaks.

“Well, at least it’ll put the fire out…” Tord muttered. He saw as Vlahd gave him a look and took a step away from him. He looked over at Vlahd with a questioning look. He asked if anything was wrong.

**[Are you a spy?]**

Tord let out a snort at that, and replied **[Maybe in the 70’s, an English-speaker would be considered a spy. But I was in Russia for diplomatic terms. You aren’t the descendent of a KGB officer, are you?]**

Vlahd blinked in confusion and shook his head.

**[My father is too much of a scumbag to be related to anything political.]**

_Ha, funny._ Tord thought to himself.

An awkward silence settled between the two men.

Tord cleared his throat and asked where the spare bedroom was. Vlahd pointed up a flight of old wooden stairs and motion towards the right side of the farmhouse. Tord thanked the man and made his way up the stairs, cringing at the creaks that came from them. After a slight bit of confusion, he found the bedroom.

It was an empty 3 x 5 meter room with a small bed in the corner, a single window overlooking the rows of beets on the property. Tord took off his boots and crept into the bed. There was a singular sheet and it hardly did anything to contain the warmth. He curled up into a ball hoping to preserve his body heat. However, it wasn’t long before he started sneezing. He had always gotten a cold whenever the temperature dropped, and he really wasn’t looking forward to ask his host were the tissues were, much less if he even had tissues here.

Tord sneezed, once, twice, three times, then four, five and six times. Before the 7th sneeze, Vlahd’s voice cut through the air like a gun.

**[Are you ok?]** Came the voice from downstairs.

**[I’m fine! I just get cold easily…]** He really didn’t want to ask for another blanket. He wasn’t sure what it was about the man, but he felt bad for him. Some unexplainable pity he felt deep in his gut, and he didn’t really fancy being around him. Soon the voice echoed up again.

**[You know, I have a spare blanket.]** Vlahd’s voice was still calm and indifferent, but Tord relented. **[No Thank y-]** Another sneeze, then two, then three. Why was he being so aloof? He clearly was catching a cold, and could benefit from the extra blanket. He’d felt pity before, so what is the matter now?

It was pity, right?

Tord heard a creak, and turned his head towards the door. He saw the man standing at the side of his bed and nearly jumped out of his skin. In his alarm he tried to say either “Jesus” “Fucking hell” which just came out as “JESUFUCKIHELL!” The Man jolted back a slight bit. _He didn’t even hear him coming up the stairs! _Tord let out a heavy breathe and looked the man in the eyes.

**[What!?]** He hissed out at the man. He didn’t mean to sound so angry but was genuinely scared now. His guard had been up ever since he saw the man and yet he managed to slip into his room quiet as a mouse. Vlahd narrowed his eyes at Tord and threw another blanket on him. This one made of wool.

**[I’d like to sleep tonight.]** The farmer answered in an annoyed tone. Tord let out a sheepish “oh” and took the blanket. He muttered a quick “Thank You” and wrapped himself up in the blanket.

Man, he really was an asshole. He turned his head to see that Vlahd had not left the room yet. He was just standing there, studying him. His face was neutral but Tord knew that many violent people have an excellent poker face. He had a strong feeling that this Farmer was dangerous. Very Dangerous. He probably didn’t even need a shovel to split a man’s skull in half. Tord dry-gulped and asked if everything was okay, he could not hide the slight tremor of fear in his voice. Vlahd tilted his head and finally spoke.

**[So… you clearly aren’t from here, you’re powerful enough to speak to the government, and you some weird… gun-arm.]** Vlahd spoke in a low tone. Tord’s eye was focused on him now, wary of what may happen.

**[So heres what I want to know,]** continued Vlahd. **[Why haven’t you killed me yet?]**

That, actually surprised Tord. He sat up in bed with a questioning look.

**[What? Why would I kill you?]** Tord questioned. He was genuinely confused. **[Are you an outlaw? I told you I’m not a cop.]**

Vlahd shook his head and spoke again. **[Every foreigner-no, every MAN that comes to this farm is disgusted with the way I and the barn look. Every time I’ve asked if they needed something, I’m threatened with anything they can find. Even my own father threatened my with a belt for speaking out of line. Why are you so calm about this? Are you planning something?]** Tord just stared at the man, bewildered at what he was describing. He cleared his head and answered.

**[Wow, ok. First of all, these people sound like cunts.]** Vlahd’s mouth slightly curved up a bit before being shut down with his neutral expression.** [Second, your father sounds like a cunt, and Third, I’m not going to insult the place I’m staying at for the night. I have manners.]** He was a bit worried by the fact he just insulted this man’s father but Vlahd seemed unaffected.

**[So that’s it? No underlying plan, no intentions of stealing or harm? You just got stranded?]** Vlahd questioned Tord, and he nodded. A second of silence passed.

**[Bullshit.]** Vlahd announced.

Tord’s brow furrowed in confusion. **[Excuse me?]**

**[How stupid do you think I am? There are no roads here and the direction you came from is from the forest. Its about 2 kilometers to the nearest road and even then, This farm is completely forgotten. What are you here for.]**

Tord blinked and then responded.** [I never said I travelled by a car. I can show you where I got stranded, but there may not be much left.]**

And that’s how they got to the still burning pile of plane debris. Vlahd was in awe of the sheer size of the thing and turned to look at Tord. **[You ride in that thing!? How rich are you!?]** Tord chuckled and said [**It’s military travel. I came to Russia to discuss a property dispute that was taking too much time to be handled at home. My pilot got shitfaced and crashed the plane, and my right-hand man is sending another one to pick me up. I was lucky to make it out alive.]**

Vlahd just kept staring at the fire, unmoving. **[Imagine if this happened while my Father was here, he’d somehow blame me for it]** Vlahd chuckled to himself, and Tord decided it was now or never.

**[Actually, I’ve been wondering, How old are you?]** Tord asked and Vlahd thought for a moment. **[I was born December 23rd 1986, so I’m… uh…]** Tord did some quick math and came up with the answer. **[33?]** Vlahd nodded. Tord continued** [Man, you’re younger than you look. Still older than me though.]** The two stood there for a bit, being warmed by the flames of the wreckage. **[Does this happen often?**] Vlahd asked, breaking the silence. Tord let out a laugh at that and replied **[Oh god, yes.]** Another moment of silence.

**[I wish I could fly in a plane.] **

Tord looked over at the farmer.** [You’ve never been in one before?]** He was met with a sad nod from Vlahd. **[Well, to put it plainly, you just sit down and watch the earth shrink under you. You also better take a painkiller beforehand or else your ears will suffer from the air-pressure change.]** Tord stated it like it was nothing, but to Vlahd it was incredible.

**[Where…are you from? You have an odd accent.**] He asked in a voice not like his previous tone. Tord simply said **[Norway, but my base is in the U.K]** Another moment of silence.

**[What’s it like there?]**

Tord was about to answer before a thought occurred to him. **[You said that there was about 2 km of distance between here and the nearest paved road. Have you ever been in a city?]** Vlahd stared for a moment before turning his head away. **[My father used to go all the time, but never me. He didn’t want me coming, and why would he? No one would want to see someone like me. Not my face anyway.]** Tord looked over to Vlahd and said **[Have you really received that much trouble for your face? It’s not bad at all. Sure the cheekbones give you an odd look but trust me there are many poor bastards in this world who would give up everything to have a face that’s normal like yours.]**

Tord turned his head back to gaze at the still burning debris, and out of the corner of his eye, could see the man smile. The rain had trickled into a slight mist that was slowly putting out the fire in front. In front of Vlahd was a piece of metal that shone with an odd glimmer. His eyes widened a bit and he moved forward to grab it. It was under a larger hunk of metal that would weigh tons. Tord chuckled and said** [Good Luck, it’d take a thousand men to lift-]** he was interrupted by the sight of Vlahd lifting up the hunk of metal effortlessly. Tord’s jaw dropped and he observed the spectacle. Vlahd pulled the metal out from the charred remains of the plane and held it up for Tord to see. **[You think it might be worth something?]** He asked, as if he didn’t just lift up an incredibly hot and heavy piece of metal without breaking a sweat.

**[H-How did you do that?]** Tord asked. Vlahd looked confused and asked what he meant.

Tord sputtered and said **[That stuff is heavy! It takes an incredibly powerful machine just to get it off the ground! How did you lift it!?]** Vlahd simply just shrugged and said **[I’ve always been strong.]**

An idea popped into Tord’s head.

**[Can you show me what else you can lift...?]** He asked with a smile, and Vlahd shrugged again and agreed.

Maybe Vlahd would get to ride in a plane after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tords into strong guys B) also sorry this chapter is a bit shorter ;(


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oougoh....stronk man...

Tord was in awe of the farmer. The sun began to drift up and over the horizon, giving the land a soft, orange glow. The fresh mist glistened on the cold grass blades as the birds in the surrounding trees began to sing their songs. He watched as Vlahd effortlessly lifted up objects that were a chore to program a machine to do. An old, run-down lada was parked next to the farm, and Vlahd lifted it off the ground with a single arm. Tord wondered to himself, how much muscle would be needed for that? To lift a car above your head without breaking a sweat, to grasp hot metal in your hands without flinching at all. Truly, Tord was witnessing a wonder.

Every time Vlahd was showing off, he’d look to Tord. A quick glance only, but still seeking out his attention and validation. He never had an audience before, much less someone who smiled at him, and laughed _with_ him. It was doing things to his head that he never thought possible.

In the middle of Vlahd bench-pressing a hunk of large metal, The LED on Tord’s hand started blinking. Tord glanced down at it, and asked Vlahd to wait a moment.

He made the “Phone” gesture with his hand once more and spoke into the receiver.

“Hello?” Asked Tord.

“Sir! Oh I’m glad you were able to pick up. How are you doing?” The voice on the other end was Paul once again.

“I’m doing alright. The plane isn’t here yet though.” Tord ended his statement with an annoyed tone, but wasn’t sure why. Sure, he wanted to leave, but he liked being around Vlahd. Paul continued.

“Uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We had a uh…situation? We just now have a pilot at our disposal and it might take a while to get him to you.” Paul’s voice was calm and controlled, but still had a nervous undertone.

Tord’s brows furrowed. “Now? Just now there’s someone coming my way? I called you _hours_ ago, Paul.”

“I understand sir, I’m sorry. Things are hectic over here, and basically, Edd’s been fucking some stuff up and escaped our captivity.”

A moment of silence.

“…Sir? Sir are yo-“

**_“HE ESCAPED!?”_ **Tord roared into the receiver. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Vlahd jump a bit at the sheer volume Tord had raised his voice at.

“S-Sir, I-!”

Click.

Fucking Bastard.

Motherfucking Edd Gold. Of course, the one time Tord’s not there he fucking escaped. All thanks to his bumbling soldiers. Tord let out a growl and began pacing to try and calm himself down.

That lowly piece of shit has been ruining things from the start, and now that Tord’s in a foreign country, he’s gone.

If Tord gets home, he’ll kill that fucker if it’s the last-

Wait.

_If._

Tord’s breath hitched and tried to call Paul back. He answered immediately.

“Sir..?” Paul’s deflated voice came from the other end, and Tord felt a pang of guilt in him.

He let out a huff and spoke. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Please just, get someone here.” Tord was currently holding in every bit of his anger, and it was making his chest hurt.

“Yes Sir! I’ll order a pilot to takeoff right away, and you’ll be back home in no time!”

_It was nearly a 4 hour flight here, but ok Paul. _

“Good.” Tord ended the call and let out another huff.

He took a few moments to breathe, before looking over at Vlahd. He seemed genuinely concerned. Both for Tord, and for his own safety.

Tord let out a sigh and looked Vlahd in the eye.

**[My flight will be here in a few hours.]** Tord spoke, his tongue feeling sour in his mouth.

Vlahd held the stare for the moment, before realizing what the statement entailed.

**[You’re leaving?]** He sounded genuinely hurt.

Tord felt hurt too. Why?

He broke eye contact and confirmed his inquiry. **[Yeah, If my flight really did just take off, then I have 4 hours left here.]**

Vlahd’s eyes were filled with sorrow, before being masked by a neutral face. He’d probably been through this many times, knowing what was coming and still being let down. It sort of unnerved Tord how quickly the farmer can mask his feelings, and then again, Tord himself had years of practice.

Which is why it hurt even more. 

A long, uninterrupted silence fell between the two of them. Neither really knowing what to do. They should be frolicking around, enjoying every second they have left with each other. That’s what they wanted to do.

But, again, why?

They had only met hours before, and now they didn’t even want to think about saying goodbye. What was going on? Would Tord ever see him again? He already looks starved.

Maybe when Tord leaves, The farmer will drop dead. He could have been he_lped, but Tord’s got an army to run. An army that’s going nowhere. An army that’s being matched by an Englishman with radiation poisoning. _

_What was he even doing here? Why did he come here? Was that discussion about the military base even real? Did he even talk to an authority? When did he last talk to anybody? Was that even Paul? When was the last time he slept?_

_He stranded himself out here, in this country, and his home base? Did they even care if Tord was ever going to come back? What if he was stranded out here?_

_Is that what Vlahd felt like? Stranded out here, with no humans in sight. How awful. And maybe he’ll be doomed to the same fate out here alone with nobody here none tocarenonoe here no one hereononehe renononeherenooneh erenooneherenonehrene rnononeheereononhe renibhereonhereknonerehreonnjer._

**[TORD!]** cried out an unfamiliar voice.

_The Norse man let out a gasp, his face burning red with tears streaming down his face. He let out shudder after shudder, trying to get a hold of reality._

_How long had he been crying?_

_Where the hell was he?_

The bird’s chirping, incessant squeaks shattering his eardrums. Everything was too loud, and the air was pushing down on him. Was there even any in his lungs? Why was his shoulder hurting so much?

Tord looked over to see a large hand grasping his shoulder, and the hand being connected to a dark blue sweater connected to a man.

He was repeating something unintelligible, or maybe he was speaking a normal language? Who knows, he’s tired.

Tord inhaled and exhaled. Why? He kept doing it anyway, and the more he did, the more his brain started to wor- ow fuck jesus.

Tord pushed away the man because holy hell his shoulder was hurting. He took a good look at the man. The farmer, the barn, the beets the plane the crash the booze the meeting and holy fuck whats going on.

Tord squeezed his eyes shut, and took a moment to recollect why he’s here.

_The plane crashed, you’re stranded, you found a barn, man inside barn, man is <strike>cute</strike> strong, paul called, gotta leave soon._

Breathe in, breathe out.

Tord opened his eyes, and looked at the man.

“Vlahd?” He asked in a pathetically shaky voice. Was he having a panic attack? How long was Vlahd standing there?

Vlahd let out a sigh of relief and answered him.

**[You were breathing too quickly, and looked like you were going to faint. Are you ok?]**

Tord looked at him, unsure of how to answer.

**[I… think so..?]** Tord just felt like shit all over. He closed his eyes.

Breathe in, breathe out.

**[Yeah, I’m ok…]**

Tord paused before he felt a hand on his shoulder, this one not gripping him hard enough to break bones.

**[You need some rest, come inside with me.]** Vlahd framed it as both a question and a command. Tord usually doesn’t take orders from anyone, but fuck it, he needs a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeehaw, tord has a panic attack B)


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flaaaaashbaaaaack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head's up! Theres going to be gore and verbal abuse in this chapter, so read with caution.

Upon entering the barn, Tord noticed many more details around him. Each floorboard had its own unique pattern of scratches and marks, there was a couch in the living room that looked torn and dirtied, the kitchen area was actually the cleanest room in the house so far. Around everything was a very thin coating of dust. Tord had to guess that Vlahd didn’t really care about appearances, and why would he? He clearly didn’t get visitors often. As Tord kept walking into the Room he noticed something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

The wall that Tord had seen hours ago, splattered with all those odd stains, was illuminated by the rising sun. Tord was no expert, but he had been around long enough to recognize the dried stains on the wall.

Blood. 

Tord looked over at Vlahd, who was also looking at the wall, then looked at Tord. He was showing that same, studying look from before, examining whether or not there was a threat in front of him. They were both thinking the exact same thing.

_Is he going to hurt me?_

Tord’s face had been neutral this entire time, masking his nervousness; he cleared his throat and spoke.

**[It uh… sure is a mess over there.]** He commented.

**[Yeah.]**

Tord shifted a bit, feeling the weight of the man’s gaze down on him more than ever. It was making him uncomfortable standing nea-

Wait.

Why did he feel threatened? He had a weapon and this man had only a shovel. Sure he was freakishly strong, but that was nothing compared to a thousand volts of electricity. He was the leader of an army for Christ’s sake! He’s not going to let this farmer intimidate him!

Tord cleared his throat once more, and spoke with more confidence this time.

**[Did you kill someone?]** He asked, bluntly.

Vlahd did not answer, instead looked back at the wall seemingly content with his studying.

**[Vlahd?]** Tord asked once more.

An answer came from the Farmer. **[What do you think?]** Well, it was vague but still painted a clear picture. Tord nodded and looked at the wall. He asked another question.

**[Who was it?]** He asked.

* * *

“Out of my way you bastard!” the old, gruff voice complained in front of him.

Vlahd was currently relaxing on the softest thing in the barn house, the couch. It was his only source of comfort, and his father came in to ruin it. They were both in a shit mood.

Vlahd looked over at his caretaker, “Vasya” and asked what was wrong.

“What’s wrong!? You’re whats wrong you lazy bastard.” His words were slurred. _Great_, Vlahd thought.

“How am I being lazy? I’ve been working all day.” His tone was bored, usually he had to tread on eggshells to avoid pissing off Vasya more than he already was, but now he didn’t care. He was tired and annoyed.

Vasya’s face went a dark red, clearly outraged at Vlahd’s “Back talking.”

“Don’t Use that tone with me! You want me to get the belt?” Vasya’s face was closer to Vlahd, reeking of alcohol. His ugly wrinkled face contorted in anger, clearly suffering from all the hard work he’s been doing lately. Do you have any idea how grueling it is driving your new car to town, getting shitfaced, eating nice, hot food while your lazy son works like a dog all day and doesn’t even get a variety in his diet? How awful. How despicable.

**He couldn’t fucking stand it.**

Something snapped in him, time was both fast and slow.

He rose to his feet, his face turning it own shade of red.

“Oh, is that it? You get to prance around all day, not a care in the fucking world! And I complain about how I work like an animal all day and somehow I’M the one who deserves to get punished!?” His voice steadily rose to a yell. He was much taller than Vasya and because of work, most likely had bigger muscle mass compared to his father. His heart was pounding in his chest, tears threatening to spill out of the corner of his eyes.

He’d been through this bullshit so many times already. Why was this time different?

Vasya, in all his intellectual glory, decided maybe he shouldn’t fuck around with his son for once and muttered something like “bloody freak” and tried going upstairs. Usually, Vlahd would thank his lucky stars that his Father gave up on the torment. But there was something wrong about today.

His mattress was old, and today it sort of split, making Vlahd wake up with a jolt of pain in his back. He didn’t get any breakfast, and was sent to work first thing in the morning. He found that some wildlife was eating the beets, and had to chase them all away. When he reported it to his father, he was to blame of course. This day was just like the others, and it was afternoon when Vlahd realized it.

He’d been doing this shit for years. He was supposed to be in the prime of his life and he was caged up in this ugly, broken-down barn working all day.

He realized how pointless it all was.

He threw down his tools, walked inside and decided that today was his day off.

And then dad walked in.

He walked over to his father and socked him in the jaw, hard.

Vasya went flying back and let out a groan of agony. Now he’s lost it,

“WHAT THE FUCK!? HOW DARE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME YO-“ He never got to finish his sentence.

Another punch, this time to his skull nearly knocked him out.

Vlahd walked over to his toolset while his father let out a pained groan. He rose up on shaky legs and looked up to see the man he had raised.

No, not raised. _Abused._

Years he treated this man like shit, and now karma was going to have his way with him.

Vlahd was holding up his shovel. The same one he’d used for years. With a swift movement, he brought it down against his caretaker. A loud, satisfying wet CRUNCH came from the hit.

Again.

And Again.

One swing turned into a dozen, and a dozen turned into almost a hundred. By that time, blood had splattered everywhere, painting the walls a burgundy color. His father’s body was nothing more than a jumbled mess of fucked up muscles, sliced organs and broken bones. Vlahd’s breathing was heavy, the air heavy with copper scent. Tears were freely flowing down his cheeks, from the physical and emotional exertion of killing the only thing he’d known for his entire life.

It was that easy.

His knees buckled and he let out heavy breaths.

_Too easy._

Loud sobs echoed from his mouth as his body shivered and shook with tremors. Thousands of thoughts swan through his mind. His vision blurred, _he wasn’t getting enough oxygen._

He was all alone now. But for how long? Vasya went to the city constantly, did he have friends? Did they know where he lived? What if they came here and saw his corpse, saw Vlahd? _They’d kill him._

_He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think. What if people came, what would he do? They’d kill him, burn down the barn. He’d be forgotten, washed away by the tides of timelikeheneverexistedatall._

He fainted next to his father’s corpse.

* * *

**[Vlahd?]** came the foreign voice.

He snapped back to reality, suddenly aware of the presence next to him.

**[Are you ok?]** His tone was worried, was he afraid of him?

To think that only months before, Vlahd was terrified of the very idea that someone could visit him, his barn, and see his face.

He blinked once and answered. **[Yes.]**

Tord looked for a second longer, and looked over at the wall. He then said in a low, sad tone. **[It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about, I won’t judge.]**

Vlahd looked over at the stained wall as well. He shook his head and responded.

**[Nevermind, let’s just get to your room.]** Tord waited a second, before following the Man.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two bros, chilling in a barnhouse, 5 feet apart cause they're not gay

The two men ventured into the cold barnhouse, up the stairs and into the smaller room where Tord was meant to stay in. As they peered into the room, the saw that the dingy bed Tord was laying on hours before was now soaked with rainwater.

**[Ah, Shit.]** Came Vlahd’s voice. The two looked up to see the hole in the ceiling that Tord did not notice before. Tord shivered and let out a sigh, **[Guess all that “mist” collected over time. Figures.]** Disappointment was clear in his tone, and Vlahd shifted a bit. A second passed before the farmer spoke. **[You know, you could rest in my bed for a bit.]** Tord looked up at the man, his eyebrows raised slightly. **[Really?]** His tone was genuine and he continued,** [It’s no trouble, I assume you want to sleep after staying up all night.]** Vlahd mulled it over a bit and responded to Tord.** [I can sleep later, I need to check on the crop today.]** He walked over to the other room and motioned to Tord to walk inside. Tord looked and saw the large bed with a light gray sheet. It definitely looked more comfortable than the bed he was lying in before. He took a few steps into the room, then paused.

Before he and Vlahd went over to the burning remains of the plane, he saw Vlahd studying the rows of beets. Sure there wasn’t any light, but he did check up on them. Tord looked over at Vlahd and spoke again. **[Really, it’s no big deal, you don’t have to give up your bed just for a guest.]** Vlahd continued to stare at Tord. Another second or so passed when Vlahd rolled his eyes and asked him. **[So what, you’re going to sleep on the floor?]** Tord thought about it, lying down on the hard, cold, wooden floors. He winced at the thought, which Vlahd noticed. He spoke once more, **[Exactly, I have work to do, so just be happy that your bed will be dry.]** He turned away, and began to walk downstairs before Tord blurted out something.

**[We could share?]**

Both men stopped, and Tord mentally facepalmed. _Jesus Christ Red, think before you speak._

Vlahd turned around to face Tord again, one eyebrow arched. **[What?]** He questioned, caught off guard by the proposal.

Tord’s face flushed from embarrassment and studied the bed. It… looked much bigger than the bed he was staying in, with a wooden headboard and small flower engravings on the sides. He estimated a Queen, maybe King sized mattress. Tord’s face became even more red when he really thought about what he was proposing. Two men just chilling in a bed, sure nothing wrong with it. Who gives a shit? The problem was that one of these men was Russian, living in a country infamous for butchering LGBT+ citizens. It’s not even that Tord was gay, he’s straight!

Right?

Tord took in a deep breath to get the oxygen flowing again.** [You know what, nevermind, it’s stupid, sorry.]** Tord mumbled out before walking over to the bed.

**[Okay.]** Came the voice from the hall.

Tord spun around to look at Vl- oh lord he’s fiddling with his overall buttons fuck.

Tord was bewildered and asked if he was serious.** [Yeah, I’m tired and need a nap.]** came the response from the farmer.

And now they were here! Two guys chilling in a bed, 2 feet apart cause they’re not gay. Vlahd went unconscious the moment his head his the pillow, leaving Tord alone with his thoughts. Damn he was cold. The sheet was nice, but did little to conserve heat. He was cold as all hell, and was holding back the urge to shift around in the bed. Nevermind the fact that the man next to him was only wearing a night shirt and some very, very thin pants. And Tord definitely was not thinking about what might be underneath those pants, no sir.

Ok yeah, he was. But he was more concerned about thinking this entire night over. Thinking about the mini panic attack he had when he realized he was going to leave soon. He should have been ecstatic, but no. He genuinely formed an emotional bond with a man he just met. Why?

For gods sake, it was harder to connect to an E-Girl than this farmer, and Tord was really into them. So why did he like Vlahd so much? He obviously wasn’t gay, he clearly liked girls. He didn-

Jesus Christ its so cold.

Tord shivered again. He turned to look at the larger man next to him.

You know what? Fuck this. Tord shifted before scooching over to Vlahd, and cuddling next to him. The action immediately woke the other man up, his body jerking a bit before realizing what was happening.

“Uh..” came the confused voice.

**[I’m cold, wrap your arms around me.]** Tord’s voice was nonchalant, except for the demand. Vlahd just sat up a slight bit and gave Tord a look. Tord looked up at the farmer, holding eye contact. A moment passed by before Tord sighed, turned so that his back was facing Vlahd, and scooched into him again.

**[What are you-?]** Vlahd questioned but Tord was too tired to put up with this shit, despite the fact that the sun was in the sky already. He took Vlahd’s arms and wrapped them around his chest. He then pulled the covers up so that they were both sharing body heat.

**[There.]** Tord said.** [Now we’re actually warm.]** He let his head rest on the pillow and closed his eyes.

There was a slight shift, and Tord took a moment to recognize the movement. He was pulled closer to the man behind him, and his head resting near Tord’s neck. He couldn’t see him, but Tord had a feeling that Vlahd might actually be enjoying this. At least there was nothing hard in the farmer’s uh… “Southern Regions” so Tord could still feel somewhat comfortable with the situation. Tord felt the soft and even breaths on his own neck, and it wasn’t long till He joined Vlahd in slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck this shit bro and give me a hug. big spoon style.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two bros scheming >:)

He didn’t understand.

Nothing about this situation made sense.

Vlahd was currently “sleeping.” Trying to find some sort of reason in the foreigner’s actions. A man he just met today, who at first contact pointed a weapon that was also metallic arm at him, (Seriously, what the fuck was that?) And only hours later, he’s here, wrapped in his arms.

On the day Vlahd was going to kill himself.

The past few months were horrid. The crops were failing, and the worst part? He missed his father. His father, who treated him horribly for his entire life, who beat him more times than he could count and would put the blame back on his son. The entire reason Vlahd had such poor self-esteem is because the only parental figure he had ever known fucking despised him.

When he finally had enough and murdered his father, he thought that he would finally be happy, and for a few days, he was! He knew now that it was shock, not happiness. As the days passed by, he started to wonder when the police would come. His Father ventured out into the city so often, someone had to have noticed. The nightmares of the barn getting raided started, and they all ended in a similar way. An officer would find Vlahd, detain him, and send him to a facility where he would be tortured.

In the previous morning, Vlahd started really inspecting the barn, looking for anything quick and painless.

“Coward.” He thought to himself as he looked for a pistol, using the rising sun as his guide. Eventually, he found an old gun. Small and Black, but still working. He spent the day learning how to fire, how to load ammo, and then he realized he didn’t have any fucking ammo.

As he currently laid in bed, he remembered the Angry shout that came from him when he realized the gun wouldn’t kill him. It was late morning now, the bright light shining in through the dark curtains, yet somehow illuminating the entire room. His dark eyes peered down to look at the Foreigner once more. When he first saw the man, he was honestly hoping for him to take aim and shoot. That’s why he brought his shovel to investigate the trespasser. He wanted to scare him so he could die.

And instead, the Man wanted to be a guest.

Even under the heavy, warm blanket that covered the two bodies, Vlahd could trace the outline of the foreigner’s body through the sheet. He felt…calm. Not anxious, not sad, not angry, not even tired. Just…calm.

Why?

Why had this man shown up now? On the day where Vlahd was getting ready to end it all, this complete stranger essentially just jumped into his arms. He was even supposed to leave in a few hours, so all of this wouldn’t even matter. The realization struck Vlahd in that moment.

_He’s in the Military, he’s definitely in charge of something. If his men come to rescue him, and I look like I’m holding him hostage, they’d kill me!_

It would have been the perfect plan.

And yet, he didn’t want to end it here. Not right now at least. Perhaps if he played his cards right…he could leave this horrid land. He could be side-by-side with this “Red Leader.” He clearly had money, which meant that Vlahd could actually eat something good for once. He could have running water, working lights, he could actually talk to someone.

Be with someone.

With that thought entering his head, Vlahd noticed that his heartbeat was a little louder now, and for the first time in years, he felt something.

_Hope._

About 2 hours passed by, when Tord awoke from his sleep. He felt rested and lifted his head to take in his surroundings.

This wasn’t his bedroom. Which probably meant he got some sweet sex last night.

Tord smirked as he turned his head to see the figure next to him.

When he saw the farmer sleeping soundly next to him, he jolted upright in horror, but quickly remembered what had happened. He let out a sigh of relief as Vlahd shifted awake due to the sudden movement Tord had made.

**[Good morning~]** Whispered Tord, silently regretting the fact that he said “Morning” and not “Afternoon.”

Vlahd opened his eyes and craned his head to see his gu-

_Oh._

From Vlahd’s point of view, Tord was sitting upright, head slightly towards one side. He was smiling at him. The sweetest, warmest smile Vlahd had ever seen. Coupled with the fact that the ray of sunlight behind him was shining bright, He genuinely looked like an angel.

He fell in love right there.

Vlahd’s face turned a shy pink as he sat up and mumbled a quick greeting, averting his gaze to the suddenly very interesting design of the blanket they were wrapped up in. Tord in his morning grogginess took no notice of the sudden change in behavior the farmer exhibited. He yawned and looked around for a clock. “What time is it,” he asked before his eyes landed on the vintage bronze clock hung on the wall.

12:43 PM.

Damn, he hadn’t had slept in like this in the past year. He stretched again and hopped out of bed. He walked over to the leather chair in the corner of the room where he had placed his tie, eyepatch, and coat. He quickly put on his formal clothes before looking back to see the Farmer had slipped on a pair of beige pants, and was walking out of the room. It was then that he realized that Vlahd had barely spoken a word since he got up.

**[Vlahd?]** Tord asked, noting that he heard the creaks of the floorboards suddenly stop as Vlahd has stopped walking.

**[Yes?]** Came the voice across the wall, a slight hint of worry in his voice.

**[Uh…are you ok?]** Tord questioned.

No Response.

In the hallway, Vlahd was debating how he was going to approach him with this. He heard footsteps drawing near, and Vlahd quickly decided to go with the most obvious choice first.

He looked around and said **[You know, you never told me your name.]** He had a bored expression on his face, a façade so that the foreigner wouldn’t pick up on his nervousness.

Tord’s head peeked out from the doorway and he gave a confused look before he realized.

_Holy shit he really hadn’t._

Tord’s face flushed as he spoke, **[Oh! I’m sorry, my name is- uh…Tord.]** He had given his true name instead of his usual “That’s Red Leader to you.” He figured there was no harm in it, right?

Vlahd took in a breath. It’s now or never.

**[You said that you run a military operation, right? Is it currently accepting new recruits?]** He voice started calm and smooth, but near the end of his inquiry his faltered a bit. Tord had noticed that small detail, and was actually a little surprised.

**[You want to join?]** He questioned, thinking to himself how unbelievable it was that someone asked him personally if they could join the Red Army.

**[I…]** Vlahd took a half-second to compose himself.** [I’m obviously not the best candidate but I really want to be a part of this]**

Tord took a moment to think. He before him was an incredibly strong man, one who had helped him out in his time of need with incredible generosity given the situation. He wasn’t going to lie, Tord was becoming attached to the Farmer, and he wasn’t doubting the fact that he was willing to learn in order to meet the qualifications that a Red soldier is required.

After a few seconds of mulling it over, he made his decision.  
**[Hell yeah, you can join]** He said nonchalantly.

While Vlahd was ecstatic, ready to jump with joy, he only let a small, grateful smile be displayed on his face.

**[But.]** Tord’s voice cut through the air. Vlahd’s heart sank, ready to hear some impossible demand.

Tord paused to think before he made the Hand motion with his Robotic arm, and prompted it to call Paul.

He put his hand next to his ear, and waited out the first 3 rings before a voice answered on the other line.

“Sir?” Came Paul’s voice through the small speaker.

“Hello Paul, can you give me an estimate on when the pilot will be here?” Tord asked in a calm and collected manner.

“I’ll be there in 2 ½ hours sir!” Paul chirped through the phone.

“Ah, excellen-wait. You’re flying the plane?” Tord immediately became nervous remembering the ASDFLand incident. That was only one of very few slip-ups, but those never really leave your mind do they?

“That’s correct sir! I’ll be over there as quickly as I can manage.” Paul then asked if the set of coordinates Tord had given him earlier were still correct, and Tord confirmed.

“Oh, by the way, I have a little surprise for you when you get here.” Tord spoke with a smile.

“Oh? What is it?”

“I have a little guest coming with us if you don’t mind. He looks funny, but I assure you he is harmless…to _us_.” Tord finished the sentence in the tone of voice he used when he faced off with Edd. Dark, menacing, and hinting at something dangerous. Paul knew that tone all too well, and considering the amount of Joy he heard in Tord’s voice, this was definitely going to help with the “Edd situation.”

“Alright sir, see you soon then.” Paul said, then ending the call.

Tord smirked, then looked up at Vlahd.

**[The plane will be here in a few hours, in the meantime, I don’t suppose you have any extra rags or some shackles do you?]** Tord asked, and found it humorous when Vlahd gave him a questioning look.

**[I…have some shackles my father took from a drunk officer, they’re old and rusty now though. And what kind of rags are you talking about exactly?]** Vlahd was curious now, wondering what Tord was playing at.

**[You see, some of my soldiers are not as…open-minded as I am. I need you to put on an act, to be an intimidating presence worthy of serving a terrifying army.]**

With that, Tord started to explain his plan to Vlahd.

A Plan to welcome an infamous Death-Row inmate into the Red army.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok first of all i am SO SORRY for not updating this in like, months. ive been in a shitty slump lately and i just didn't feel like doing much of anything but NOW! im back babey


	7. VII

As the aircraft began to descend upon the foreign land, Patryck noticed that the uncomfortable feeling in his ears began to lift. He couldn’t understand how the hell his boss had gotten into this mess.

When Edd set off a mini-bomb inside of the London base, he caused havoc unlike the ones he usually makes. He had never managed to smuggle something in before. _He must have stopped caring at this point; _Patryck remembered thinking to himself as he saw the amount of people on the floor.

There were too many corpses to count.

When Paul began to usher him out of the base and into an airplane, Patryck was beyond confused. It took about 10 minutes for the large helicopter to get off the ground. Paul had never rushed like this before.

Patryck tried desperately to question him, but he only got short snippets for answers.

“Tord’s stranded.” “His plane crashed.” “We might need to med-kit.”

When he thought he had enough of the story to understand what happened, he immediately thought of the worst. His plane was crashed, so they couldn’t even have made contact with him. The relief the pilots felt when a transmission came from Tord’s freaky robot arm was immeasurable. While the fear that his boss might be dead dissipated, he suddenly had more questions now.

_“I have a little guest coming with us if you don’t mind. He looks funny, but I assure you he is harmless…to us.”_

He didn’t remember the specifics of the mission Tord sent himself on, only that he needed to settle a property dispute somewhere in Russia.

The thoughts cleared out from his head when the cool grey that encompassed the windows cleared, and the countryside was visible.

Patryck looked over to Paul, and was amazed at how concentrated he was at the moment. He was stuck leaning forward, eyes darting around, trying to get any sign of the plane wreckage. He didn’t have to stare long, as both pilots jumped when they heard another transmission coming through.

Patryck quickly snatched the receiver, and answered.

“Sir?”

“Ah, Patryck! I didn’t think you’d be coming along as well.” Came the calm voice from the receiver.

“Well, what can I say? I was worried boss. Also where the hell are you?” Patryck tensed a slight bit as he realized he let his mouth run. However, he only heard a chuckle coming from the radio. _Damn, Tord must be in one hell of a good mood._

“I can see you two, turn around and look for a dilapidated barn. You’ll notice a hammer and sickle on top of it. Cliché, I know.” Tord stated plainly. Patryck repeated the directions and Paul was quick to turn around and start looking for the building. It took a few seconds, but Paul’s eye locked onto a small barn and a very large, burnt wreckage a bit further from it. Although his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be, he could see a small figure in the area. Paul quickly changed to hover, and grasped for the receiver.

“Tord! I think I see you!” Paul yelled excitedly. “I can see you as well.” Tord confirmed this by waving at the helicopter. “We’ll be right down sir!” Patryck chirped, delighted that his boss would be up and out of this awful, cold land. When Tord heard the “Click” he smirked, and looked behind him.

**[Remember our plan?]** He asked the figure behind him.

The tall man did not give a verbal answer; he simply nodded, keeping a cold look on his face. Tord smiled and looked at the Aircraft as it descended.

Once the aircraft had landed, Paul wasted no time in getting the hell out and checking out his Boss. He couldn’t stop the unbreaking stream of questions coming out of his mouth. **“OHMYGODAREYOUOKAREYOUHURTSHOWMEYOURLEGAREYOUBLEEDINGWHYISTHEREASTICKINYOURHAIR-“** Tord calmly put a hand up and Paul quieted immediately. Patryck ran out of the helicopter and dragged the med-kit with him. “Are you ok, sir?” Patryck asked, to which Tord nodded. “Do you two remember that I said there would be a guest with us?” Tord asked with an odd smile on his face. Behind him, the bushes rustled a slight bit. Paul raised his head, and tried to see what was in the bushes. Patryck answered, “Yes sir! Who is our guest?”

Instead of answering directly, Tord simply turned and spoke. Paul and Patryck could not understand what he said, but based on the pronunciation, it sounded Russian. Then, a large figure made its way from behind a few trees. The moment the pilots got a good look at the figure, their faces twisted into confused fear.

The man was incredibly tall, with long dark hair and even darker rings under his eyes. His face was long with prominent cheekbones jutting out. His broad shoulders, height, and the cold look on his face made it very clear that this man was dangerous. It wasn’t long until Paul noticed something; the man was dressed in dark orange rags with the number “015” printed on the left breast of the shirt. The man’s arms were big and muscular, however as Paul’s eye trailed down, he quickly noticed the old shackles around his wrists. The picture in front of him suddenly became very clear.

Tord’s guest was a prisoner.

He accidently made eye-contact with the man. The darkest, coldest, most dreadful feeling Paul had ever felt materialized in his gut right there, and he was truly terrified. He had trained new recruits from the worst parts of the world, and he had never seen such cold, evil hatred in one’s eyes before. He forced himself to look at something else, so he looked over at Patryck. He was clearly faring much worse. The Polish mans’ eyes were wide and full of fear. His face had turned a sickly pale and Paul had noticed the Med-kit was shaking. He was experiencing tremors no doubt. Paul quickly looked over at Tord instead and couldn’t believe it.

Tord looked like he was barley holding in his laughter. His eye made contact with Paul’s mortified gaze, and he cleared his throat before explaining.

“This is Vlahd, our guest. As such, I expect you two to greet him.” Tord’s delighted smirk faded away into a serious look as he waited for his Pilots to greet the man.

Paul blinked and he looked down as he said “Hi Vlahd…”

He never heard his own voice come out so meek before. This couldn’t be right.

Tord smiled a bit and spoke. “So. Are we getting out of here or what? We’re rather hungry y’know.”

Paul opened his mouth before clamping it shut again. _We? Are you fucking Kidding me?_

“…This? This is who we’re taking back?” He asked, unsure if Tord understood what was standing next to him.

Tord’s brow furrowed, and he answered. “Yes Paul. Don’t be Rude.”

Paul looked over at the Man, Vlahd. However now, he was looking at Patryck instead. Paul turned to look at Patryck, and his heart dropped as his co-pilot was completely frozen in fear. He didn’t even look like he was breathing. Paul flushed with Anger, and turned around to snap at the stranger.

“STOP STARING AT HIM!” He yelled at an incredible volume. The three other men immediately jumped, The prisoner much more violently than Patryck did. For the briefest moment, Paul saw fear flash in Vlahds’ eyes, before being quickly masked by an angry look. Tord also became angry.

“Paul. When we get back we’re going to have to talk about your attitude. As for now, please lead our Guest to his seat. Now.” Tord’s tone was firm, and Paul wasn’t used to getting talked to like this from him. He stared for a moment before turning to look at Vlahd. He let out a sigh. “Alright. Fine. Let’s go bud.” Paul said, annoyance dripped from his words. As he walked to the helicopter, he wondered why he hadn’t heard the man walk behind him. He must be heavy, so surely he must have heard him following. Paul turned his head to loo-oh holy fuck.

Paul’s previous assumption was incorrect, seeing as the man was less than a foot away from him. He jumped and let out a squeak. The prisoner simply raised an eyebrow, and Paul suddenly felt very embarrassed. He muttered something under his breath as he climbed into the copter and motioned to the Guest’s seat. The man simply walked over and took his seat. Paul walked, well, more like jogged out of the copter to talk to Tord. Nothing about this seemed right. He looked over to see Tord looking genuinely sad and apologizing to Patryck, who was shaking like a leaf.

“I’m sorry, he doesn’t mean to be…scary. You must understand that prisons are very harsh here.” He offered a pat on the back, but Patryck just scooted away from him. Paul let out a huff and walked over.

“Sir,” Paul began. “Is this man seriously going to join us? Please be honest, is he threatening you? Because if so we will be sure to-“ Tord quieted him with a simple hand wave.

“Paul, enough. I appreciate the concern, but I’ve made up my mind.” Tord seemed annoyed with Paul. He however, was completely flabbergasted. “Sir, he looks like a serial killer! He’s dangerous! He looks like he’s about to stab the nearest warm body!” Paul’s fear was present in his voice. Tord smiled at that and spoke, “Exactly. That’s why he’s going to help us. You felt it too, didn’t you? That fear, that sensation in your gut that tells you to run. It’s horrifying. _It’s beautiful. _We’ll never have to see Edd again!” Tord was grinning ear-to-ear, enthralled with the Idea of getting that annoying soda-addicted arse out of his hair. Once and for all. With that, Patryck stood up suddenly and faced Tord.

“He’s going to live in the Base?” He asked in a near whisper. Tord gave him a sympathetic look and spoke. “I know, he doesn’t look welcoming, but I assure you he won’t harm us at all. You won’t have to see him often Patryck. You don’t like being near the certain rooms where he’ll be working after all.” Patryck took a moment to understand what that statement meant. His blood ran cold when he realized it. The one area of the Army bases he always refuses to go near. The prison cells, and the Interrogation Rooms.

For once, he actually felt bad for the men in those rooms.

Tord smiled as Patryck came to his realization.

“Now then, let’s give our Guest a warm welcome, shall we?” Tord spoke as he put his arms out behind his subordinate’s backs, guiding them towards the Aircraft.

Paul and Patryck exchanged looks that went unnoticed by Red Leader.

This surely wouldn’t end well for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! boy it feels nice to write dialogue thats not in brackets

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw feller lets go


End file.
